Ghost Stories
by Hunter Kitty
Summary: Most ghost stories aren't that scary in comparison to a zombie apocalypse, so the Survivors are just going to have to think of something scary on their own.


Disclaimer: Left 4 Dead is not mine. Nor are it's characters and places and ideas and all that.

A/N: Okay, completely random story. I just started thinking about what the worst thing to encounter in Left 4 Dead would be. I thought of something random and stupid, and decided to make a story from it. The campfire party is just an excuse to get the whole conversation started. Hopefully it's not too horribly stupid or anything. If it is, feel free to say so. I understand.

* * *

The four survivors all stumbled into the safe room, slamming the door closed behind them to lock out the oncoming horde. The force severed one zombie arm from it's owner, and it fell to the ground and twitched for a bit.

"Barricade the door!" Bill ordered. The other survivors nodded and scurried off. Louis returned with a plank and used it to hold the door back. Zoey brought a spare chair, which she leaned against the door to hold it closed. Francis out-did all of them and brought an entire sofa, crashing it down against the door. The noise of the horde died down after about five minutes, and the survivors all sighed and slid to the ground for a well-deserved break.

"That was crazy," Zoey exclaimed, pulling herself to her feet and going to see what sort of supplies had been left in this particular safe room. "I didn't think I was gonna make it out of that one!"

"That Boomer sure got you good," Francis chuckled. He started to empty out his weapon to reload it, and had just gotten the clip out when Zoey piped up again.

"Hey look! Someone left a bag of marshmallows here!" she said, turning around and showing her team a large bag of jumbo marshmallows.

"That's great!" Louis replied, smiling. "We could have a nice little campfire party!"

"Party?" Bill grumbled. "We're in a zombie apocalypse. This is no time for a _party_."

"Lighten up, old man!" laughed Francis as he patted Bill on the back. "I think we can take a little break from the zombies to have a little fun!"

Despite the others' cheer, Bill didn't cheer up much. However, he did offer his lighter to them so they could make a small campfire in the middle of the room. Once the fire was set up, they broke apart a plank from one of the many crates in the room and made some sticks to toast marshmallows on.

Things quieted down, and the survivors were able to enjoy their snack in relative peace. That is, until Zoey suddenly broke the silence.

"Eeeww!" she exclaimed, making the others turn in surprise. "I just thought of something really gross! Do Hunters wash their hands before they attack a different person?"

"I doubt it," Francis grumbled. "Why the hell would they?"

"Well what if they attack someone with a disease? Like the flu or AIDS or something gross like that?" Zoey exclaimed, shivering with disgust. "They'd get all that blood on their claws and then go right out and spread those germs to the next person!"

"Speaking of washing hands..." Louis piped up. "Do you think zombies go to the bathroom? And if so, do they use the toilets?"

That shut Zoey up for a total of five seconds, before she went back on her little rant. "That's just as bad! Those zombies are probably out there wetting themselves right now! How gross is that?"

"If it's so gross, then think about something else!" Bill snapped, obviously still holding a grudge about their marshmallow break.

Everyone quieted down for fear of incurring Bill's wrath, though Zoey still seemed a bit uneasy. After a few minutes of blissful silence, Francis spoke up again. "So..." he began, grabbing everyone's attention. "Who wants to tell a ghost story?"

"None of the stories I know are scary after all we've been through..." Zoey said sadly. Louis and Bill nodded their agreement.

"Well then think of somethin' scary!" the biker laughed. "What's the scariest thing we could ever come across on our little journey here?"

"I say a Smoker with a sniper rifle," Louis suggested. "There's no two-seconds to react for a bullet through the head."

"Oh, I would be so doomed if those things got rifles!" Zoey snickered. They all agreed on that one, remembering back to just a few hours previous when a Smoker had snagged Zoey from it's position on the rooftop. She'd noticed the tongue instantly, and managed to fire a lucky hunting rifle bullet through it's skull to free herself.

"It's good," Francis said, dragging them all out of their memories and back to reality. "But not the _best_. Can't you guys think of anything better?"

"Tarantula Tank!" Zoey suddenly yelled, her eyes widening. "That's the scariest thing ever! A Giant Tarantula Tank with eight arms and poison fangs that are made of pain and _death_!"

There was an awkward silence in the room as everyone imagined a half-Tank-half-Tarantula creature.

"Why a tarantula?" Louis asked curiously. "Why not a shark or tiger?"

"I..." Zoey paused, seeming a bit embarrassed. "I don't like spiders much."

"So you can take a Tank head on, headshot a smoker, stay relatively calm in a zombie apocalypse, but you're scared of _spiders_," Francis scoffed. "Jeez, can't you people think of anything _good_?"

"I've got one for ya, Francis," Bill announced, a challenging glint in his eye. "How about a Tank with an auto shotgun? You've seen that gun tear through hordes. It'd slice us apart like a hot knife through butter."

"Now THAT'S scary!" Louis laughed shakily, picturing the scene in his head.

"It'd be even worse if the Tank was a Tarantula Tank," Zoey commented as a shiver ran down her spine. " It could have FOUR shotguns! That's one to shoot at each of us!"

"It's scary," Francis said, yawning. Then he grinned deviously. "But not quite the scariest."

"Well then what _IS_ the scariest?" the veteran hissed. "I don't suppose you've got anything scarier?"

"I do," Francis announced proudly, positively beaming as everyone else leaned forward in anticipation. After all, there wasn't much that could be scarier than a Tank with an overpowered shotgun.

"Alright, get this," the biker began, grinning like a madman. "It's a Tank..."

Everyone nodded, waiting for the rest. Zoey was practically bouncing in her seat, and Louis' marshmallow burned over the fire as he forgot about it to listen to the conversation. Bill simply folded his arms across his chest, obviously not impressed yet.

Francis waited just a moment to add to the drama before continuing. "...With a rocket launcher."

"Is that all?" Bill immediately scoffed. "We can dodge rockets easier than we can shotgun bullets."

"I'm not done!" Francis yelled, causing Bill to jump. "It's a Tank with a rocket launcher that fires Witches and Hunters, has a Smoker tongue attachment, and a grenade launcher on the side that fires Boomer vomit."

"That's insane," Bill pouted. "That would never happen!"

"But it's still the scariest," Francis pointed out with a grin, turning to see what the others thought. "Am I right?"

"Impossible as it is, it _is_ the scariest," Louis admitted.

Everyone turned to Zoey, who seemed to be debating. "Can the Tank be a Tarantula Tank?"

Francis shrugged. "Sure, whatever. It can have two rocket launchers then."

Zoey nodded, and they all agreed. The Tank with the rocket launcher that fired Hunters, Witches, tongues, and vomit was undoubtably the scariest thing they could think of, however unlikely it may be.

And Francis won the Scary Competition, now and forever. (Though Bill would always say it was a cheap shot.)

**THE END**

Bonus ending:

The next day, all the survivors continued on their way with considerably less fear than before. After all, plain old zombies were nothing compared to a Tank with a rocket launcher. They got a little worried when the Tank came stomping forwards, but Zoey reminded them all that at least it didn't have eight arms or a rocket launcher. (Or fangs made of pain and death.)

Everything went smoothly. At least, until someone (I'm not pointing fingers on this one) threw a Molotov and set the Tank on fire. Unfortunately, the Tank wasn't so happy with this, so he attempted to throw a rock at them. But he didn't quite grab the ground, as he had planned.

Coincidentally, the Witch had been sitting right by his feet, and the innocent Hunter had just _happened_ to be walking by. They were both in the wrong place at the wrong time, as the Tank grabbed the both of them and chucked them at the survivors.

The Hunter crashed into Zoey and they both fell to the ground, where the Hunter decided that while he was there, he might as well start to rip Zoey's throat out. The Witch, meanwhile, landed just a few feet away from Louis, and promptly began to protect her personal space by mauling him to the extent that not even a DNA test would be able to recognize the body. Francis and Bill both looked at each other worriedly.

"A-at least there's no Smoker tongue or Boomer vomit?" Francis stammered, glancing at the Tank that had begun to charge them again.

And of course, the Director that we all know, love, and hate at the same time just so happened to be listening.

First, a Boomer happened to stumble by, and puked on all four survivors, effectively blinding them and calling forth more zombies than you could shake a stick at (if you could even FIND a stick in the MASSIVE army of brainless zombies).

Then, a Smoker happened to drop in and decided to give Bill a friendly (and painfully strangulating) hug. Leaving Francis all on his own. But that wasn't a worry for long.

The Tank charged forward with a roar that would put air horns to shame, and punched Francis so hard he fell off the roof of Mercy Hospital. Even though they were in Death Toll.

And everyone (except for the Survivors) lived happily ever after.

**THE END** (For real this time.)

* * *

A/N: I don't like spiders. Nor do I like Tanks. Hunters, however, are adorable.

I like the Bonus Ending. I didn't know where to end the story, so I just kept it added on as an extra. I was going to add an extra-extra part on how the Infected would celebrate their victory with marshmallows, and then find out that their marshmallows had 'mysteriously' disappeared. But it just sounded horribly stupid (more stupid than this fic already is) whenever I wrote it, so I left it out.

I don't really know if Zoey is scared of spiders. I just thought it would be interesting.

So hopefully my story wasn't too mind-numbingly stupid or anything. I apologize if it was.


End file.
